Carmen here.
I decided the best way to start a conversation would be to crash into someone – it worked on Jack and Miranda, didn't it?
I nearly knocked Angie to the ground trying that. Sorry, Angie. Her bag went flying, the contents scattering.
"Oh, sorry!" I said.
"It's okay." She bent and starting collecting the contents of her bag.
"Mind if I help?"
She nodded.
I picked up a sheaf of papers. A script of some sort. "Are you an actress?" I asked.
"I wish. They just turned me down, said it was the worse audition they'd ever seen."
Ouch. "I doubt that."
"How would you know? You've never seen me act."
Oh, right. I hadn't. "I'm familiar with auditions. I'm a dancer. Believe me, they usually just say that so that if they do call you you'll be ridiculously grateful." Okay, I lied a bit on that one. I've never been told that at an audition, though I'm hardly the best person they've seen all day.
"Thanks. You here looking for work?"
"Not exactly. I came to see a show with some friends."
"Which one?"
"Annie Get Your Gun." Please, please let that musical have been released by now...
Apparently it had been, because she didn't comment.
Miranda and Jack stayed in the alley, waiting.
Right. Time line.
She finished putting everything back in the bag.
"Again, sorry about that," I said.
"It's fine."
I couldn't think of a way to bring up current events, or Peggy, without sounding odd.
She walked away.
"What are you doing?" demanded Jack.
"We'll follow her," I said. "Back to where she lives. We'll take things from there."
"What was that about your accent?" asked Miranda.
"You're just used to it. I'm actually from Germany, remember?"
Miranda's face paled. "In 40s New York?"
"Don't worry, I've got a good control of my accent, no worry of anyone noticing." I didn't mention that my family has a history of involvement in the German military. My grandfather on my mother's side was a soldier for the third Reich. My grandfather on my father's side was a Nazi politician, one who was only a step or two down from Hitler in importance. I myself was born in German and moved to the States when I was eight. Not something you exactly brag about.
We followed in the shadows and in alleys until we reached the place where Angie and Peggy lived.
"Alright, what now?" I asked.
"We wait," said Jack.
"You guys always seem to know what to do."
"When we first started doing this, we made plans for every possible problem. When things happen, we just go on autopilot and use a plan."
"That's smart."
I sat down on a bench.
"Any other pieces of heritage we should know about?" asked Jack.
"My family have mostly been high ranking soldiers and politicians, to be honest. Yes, they were associated with the Third Reich. There was a baker at some point in the 1800s, and a couple musicians and actresses. One of my great-great-grandfathers actually married into a noble family. It's pretty much German all the way back to the 1700s – probably further, but that's as far as we've traced it."
"Don't say that too loudly," he advised.
"Didn't plan on it." If necessary, I was Dutch. I have a few distant cousins who are Dutch.
My stomach growled.
"I'll get us something to eat," said Jack. "I've got money, and everything's so much cheaper in the 40s. The coins and dollar bills are still the same, right?"
Miranda shrugged. "I think so, though they're probably made a bit differently, so you should be careful."
"Got it. Thanks."
Jack here.
It took a bit of time to find a place to get food, but I eventually found a little restaurant.
I wish I'd kept looking.
I entered and walked up to the counter to order.
"Sorry, kid. We're closed."
I glanced around. There were still people there, eating, getting food.
"Um… okay."
"You're closing?" A man's voice behind me, British accent.
"Stay out of it."
"No need to rude." Jarvis. It was Jarvis. Oh, no. Behind me, I saw Agent Carter.
"I'm going." I backed out the door.
Sousa approached me from the corner, limping on his crutch.
He tripped and fell hard.
"You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He got up, ignoring the hand I offered.
"You know where I could get something to eat around here? They said they're closed in there."
He gestured down the street. "Two blocks down. Nice little restaurant. Can't miss it."
"Thanks."
I headed down and picked up some food for Carmen and Miranda. I didn't know what Carmen liked, but I got both of them ham sandwiches, and myself beef.
Carmen and Miranda were still on the bench.
I gave them their sandwiches. "Anything happen?"
Their shook their heads.
"No," said Carmen. She took a small bite out of her sandwich. "Mm…"
"Well, I met Jarvis and Sousa at the restaurant. They'll probably be here soon."
Miranda devoured hers in five bites, while Carmen took longer about hers, slowly nibbling, making it last.
Then Peggy Carter darted across the street and into the building.
"Should we do anything?" I asked.
"You can't do anything," said Carmen. "There's no way the woman would let you in. But we're both ladies. We should get in all right."
"I look a bit odd for the time period, I'm not sure…"
"Miranda, don't worry. No one is going to mistake you for a man."
She nodded. "Okay."
"What are you going to do?" asked Jack.
"Whatever might need to be done," replied Miranda.
"You can't mess up the timeline."
Miranda stood up. "I know. She was very insistent on that. Wish me luck, we'll need it."
We crossed the street together to the building.